NEAR the end of everything
life became more clearer
the whisper became loudly:
i should be laughing
i should be crying
i should be hanging —
up there
so do not come to my grave
because i am still walking
{i am not there]
do not bring me flowers
because i left my heart
beneath a growing garden
(it’s all within my will)
You know that love desires
valleys so deep like an ocean
and the highest of hills
within its swollen rolls
like a mystery mixed in a potion
And everything is made of love;
like a thousand winds that blow
like a smile it kills the heart’s pain
Unlike the day the world came apart
and the sun burned out
and the moon fell down
and the fire became so cold
So i am dead but still walking;
the living ghost of past memories.
:: 05-31-2018 ::
